she got him excited, too, they’d be okay again.
It wouldn’t be easy. Gage was Mr. Stay Put, Stand Pat, Play It Safe. He never drew a card in blackjack when he had sixteen or bought a new suit until his old one had an unpatchable hole. He had the same furniture from his college apartment. Quality brands and classic designs, of course—leftovers from his father’s small hotel—but, sheesh, didn’t he get tired of seeing the same sofa every damn day?
Of course, this attitude made him a great partner. Their working relationship was a series of negotiated agreements and careful compromises, polished by their debates to a fine gleam.
She and Gage had achieved a delicate balance in their partnership, a perfectly calibrated seesaw of push-pull, rush and calm. Throwing in sex would be like dropping an anvil on one side. Somebody would get flung across the playground. Probably both of them.
Which meant they had to get past the Water Bed Moment—even as it continued to throb through her. She scrubbed at her arms, still covered with goose bumps, and smoothed back her hair, which prickled with awareness, then picked up a box to examine the elaborate vibrator inside. Her task was to find innovative items to add to the inventory of Le Sex Shoppe, the boutique at the resort. Leticia, the manager, was counting on her.
Sugar focused in. Thinking about the resort always steadied her. Maybe she was too intent on her work, letting her personal life fade in importance, but the resort had been all-consuming from the beginning, and reaching this level of success had been a major achievement. Spice It Up, a combination resort and sex-therapy retreat for committed couples, was unique. Therapy-focused, Spice It Up used relationship theory to boost intimacy in long-term relationships, very different from sex-themed resorts and luxury spas.
Their success hadn’t gone unnoticed. Competitors were in the wings. After four years, it was time to grow. Grow or die was basic business law. It happened to be her personal mantra, too. Having a new challenge filled Sugar with adrenaline and relief. She liked making progress.
She would talk through her plan with Gage tonight. The Sextique International Expo, with its theme of Sex Sells…Everything, made a compelling case for her idea. With porn going mainstream and strippers making Entice Your Man videos, sex and all things spicy had never been more legitimate.
She needed to settle herself, focus in on her goal.
Maybe a drink in the bar would help. She had time before dinner. She could distract herself, clear her head, maybe network with conference-goers, get fired up for her pitch to Gage.
In the quietly busy hotel bar, she spotted a guy she’d exchanged a comment with during a marketing presentation. Handsome, he wore a crisp shirt, sleeves folded back, tie loose, and was drinking a martini with olives.
Sex was an appealing possibility and, if not, they could talk business, so she slid onto the stool beside him. “Enjoying the convention?” She tilted her head, accepting his pleased smile.
“I made some contacts,” he said, turning to more fully face her, also indicating interest. “You?”
“Me, too. I’m learning lots.”
“What can I get you to drink?”
“If that’s gin, I’ll take one.”
“A martini girl. Bombay okay?”
“Excellent.” Very classy. “I’m Sugar Thompson, by the way.”
“Conner Jameson. ExerSystems. Exercise suites for hotels and motels.” He gave her a card, which she exchanged with one of her own. “We spoke, I believe, at that workshop.”
“I remember you,” she said.
“So…‘Spice It Up,’ huh? ‘An adventure in enhanced intimacy,’” he read from her card. “I’ve heard of you.”
“Really?” Though she wasn’t surprised. Spice It Up had lots of buzz, she’d learned from other attendees. A woman from the Singles Travel Network had mentioned two resorts were adding sex counselors to their amenities—further proof that Sugar and Gage had a brief window to expand before competitors stole their edge.
“I was looking at your brochure at a convention in Nevada and a woman commented that the place was a gold mine.”
“Oh, really? Who was she?” A possible contact for franchise possibilities.
“She was with Travel Something…Quest, I believe. TravelQuest. Yeah. Business travel. Her name escapes me. She was very knowledgeable. Tall…blond…”
“And gorgeous? Had to be Rionna Morgan.” The woman was the queen of networking.
“You know her?”
“The travel industry’s a tight group.” Plus, Rionna had a thing for Gage, Sugar was sure. At the Business Association luncheon the month before, she’d complimented his incisive mind, batting her eyes so hard Sugar couldn’t resist asking her if her contacts were bothering her.
Gage seemed oblivious, but then he’d been dating Adrienne at the time.
“Good point. Makes me wonder how I’ve missed meeting you until now.” He held her gaze. Definitely into it.
She wanted to talk business still. “I hope Rionna’s right because we’re considering franchising.”
“Seems to be the thing do,” Conner said. “Big moneymaker.”
“I know. I had a great preliminary meet with a consultant who’s done motel-hotel franchises.”
“Which consultant?”
“Foster Matthews of Matthews and Millhouse. You know them?”
“Heard of them. They’re solid. We looked into the concept, too, but it wasn’t right for us.”
“Why was that?”
“Too many competitors, really, and it would have taken too long to build a franchise team. That’s crucial.”
She nodded. “Foster mentioned that. The next step is for them to come out for a diagnostic workup.”
“Have you targeted any franchisees?”
“Not yet. No.” She wanted Gage’s help for that. They would prepare a package for the regional travel convention coming to San Diego in a month. “Any other advice?” she said.
“Make sure it’s a good fit,” he said, holding her gaze. She could tell he was finished with the topic and was considering how he and she might fit in an entirely different way. “So how did you get into the sex resort business?” he asked.
“That’s a long story.” Her martini arrived and she took a sip, loving the warm sting of the gin.
“I’ve got time.” He smiled at her. Getting warmer.
Except she felt no responding warmth. The vibe was as distant as a faraway train, the whistle barely audible.
So annoying. Sex with Conner would be the perfect palate cleanser after that bed jiggle with Gage. Except she was more hot for what he knew about franchises than for what might happen in bed with him.
She sipped more gin, then told him how Spice It Up came to be, how she and Gage had conceived of it six years ago, opened it after a year of prep and planning.
“Very interesting,” Conner said, though he seemed to be talking about her mouth, not her resort.
Sugar still wasn’t fired up. She glanced toward the bar entrance and noticed Gage walking by, headed for the gift shops. Why, she wondered? He wasn’t the type to forget a toiletry item and he never snacked. He looked so purposeful.
Sometimes watching him made her want to stand still and just breathe—slow the hell down for once in her life. Lying on that bed with him, she’d really seen his face. Strong and broad, with nice cheekbones and dark, steady eyes and a firm mouth. She normally liked soft lips, but—
“Penny